Of What Sweet Rest
by prettytiedup23
Summary: Sequel to Full of Grace. After their encounter in The Forest of Dean, Harry just wants to continue his conversation with Snape. Then the Battle For Hogwarts starts. Everything is in shambles and Harry is falling apart but he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to keep his promise. He just hopes he can get to Snape in time. Contains DH spoilers and HP/SS Slash.
1. For Just A Moment

Title: Of What Sweet Rest

Author: Kitty Hazard

Rating: Mature

Pairing: SS/HP

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anything or anyone you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling and associated publishers and distributers. I just like to play in other peoples sandboxes for a little while. No profit is being made from this work or any other works I have published.

Authors Notes: Due to popular demand, I am writing this as a continuation of Full of Grace. I have attempted to work on this particular piece for a very long time but always found myself turning out rubbish instead of the story I really wanted to tell. So many of my readers have asked me for a sequel and I couldn't just give them some half-assed, uninspired "Just kidding, Snape's alive! How convenient! …and then they have sex," fic that I truly didn't think should be allowed to see the light of day. So I am hoping that this story doesn't disappoint too much, considering that anticipation and imagination can never compare to the actual thing. I hope so much that you all like this and that I have done justice to my readers.

_"And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave." –Edgar Allen Poe_

_**Of What Sweet Rest**_

_**By Kitty Hazard**_

Everything was completely out of control. This night was worse than Harry had ever thought possible, even in his darkest moments. Time and again, Harry was forced to watch as people he knew, people he cared for, were hurt or killed and yet nothing could have prepared him for The Battle for Hogwarts. Harry was completely overwhelmed, the battle raging while he tried to do the only things that would ensure that The Dark Lord died for good this time despite the resistance fighters who desperately needed help.

The dead and dying were littered throughout the once sacred halls of Hogwarts and Death Eaters were swarming through the shattered wards like a plague and despite everything, Harry – in that moment – only wanted to get to Severus, just for a moment, just wanted to see him before Harry faced his worst nightmare and confronted Voldemort for their big showdown – their last showdown.

Harry had tried so very hard to reach Snape before everything went to hell, tried to show him that he remembered his promise, remembered everything about that night in the Forest of Dean, that Harry so wanted to continue their conversation, just wanted a single minute to breathe each other in before resuming their roles, but he hadn't gotten there in time. Things had gone from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye and even though much more important and world-altering events were taking place, Harry was ridiculous and selfish and just wanted one moment where he could stand with the man who saved him from not only drowning in a frozen pond, but from himself.

Harry had been at the end of his rope, hopelessly wandering the countryside with Hermione while Ron had gone off with no chance of finding them again even if he had wanted to and certainly no closer to destroying the singular Horcrux they did have, not to mention the ones that they had no clue where to start looking for, and without Snape, he doesn't know how much longer he would have lasted under the strain. That one fragment of time had solidified his resolve, helped him cope with the dark thoughts and feelings that were consuming him and gave him a taste of what could be waiting for him at the end of this painful road.

Instead of sneaking in and out of the castle, with any luck after a nice visit with his old professor and with one less Horcrux lying around, everything went to hell and the final battle was on him. People were fighting for their lives, for the future of the Wizarding World, for the triumph of good over evil and Harry was stuck in a tunnel, hiding like a coward while Voldemort's forces stormed the castle and wrought death and destruction like nothing Harry had ever seen. There was nothing to prepare him for what was happening and so Harry shut down his heart and focused on ridding the world of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Having thought himself safe in his self-inflicted numbness, he had no warning as his emotions slammed back into him with a vengeance, as if to punish him for their brief absence. Snape's voice, begging Voldemort to be allowed to find him, seemed to wrench something loose in him and the world seemed to both slow to a crawl and speed up to the point where Harry couldn't keep up with the horrific events progressing in front of him. His throat was so tight he doubted that he could have spoken even if he had to, his stomach was knotted and writhing with hopelessness and overwhelming dread. He couldn't seem to draw proper breath and his body shook with impotence and fear. Everything in him was rebelling against his inaction and he watched in agony and grief as a terrible scream rent the air while Nagini followed her master's orders.

"_Kill_" Voldemort had said, and the great snake's cage flew at Snape. The snake's fangs pierced his neck as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself. His knees gave way and he fell to the filthy floor as Voldemort walked away.

"I regret it," he said coldly but there was no remorse or sadness in him. He left the shack to take charge with a wand that he believed would now do his full bidding. He pointed the wand at the starry cage holding Nagini, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backwards glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective cage.

Time stopped as Harry knelt next to Snape, unknowing how he even made it from the tunnel to where Severus was lying, watching his last thoughts seep out of his eyes and mouth, hearing his wrecked voice begging Harry to take them. Hermione shoved an empty vial into his hands and he somehow managed not to tip it out over his robes as his hands shook desperately. Harry passed the vial back, about to beg Hermione to give him the last of their Dittany – to beg her to help him save Severus – when Snape grabbed his robes and dragged Harry down so that they were eye to eye. Startled and frantic, all Harry could do was comply.

"Look…at…me," he whispered, the hands holding Harry's robes shifting and grasping both sides of Harry's face despite the wetness flowing down them.

Harry lifted his eyes from the shredded mess of Snape's throat and met his eyes. It was completely devastating. Silent sobs wracked Harry's chest and he felt his grip on reality slip away from him as the fire in the back gaze started to dim.

Wanting to shake Snape as hard as he could to get him to hold on – though for what, Harry wasn't exactly sure – but he was afraid of making the uncontrolled bleeding worse than it already was. Harry pressed his free hand onto the wound hard, suddenly realizing that if Snape's hands were clawing into his face, nothing was staunching the blood flow, a shuddering wail escaping him as he felt the ruined flesh for the first time. It was much worse than it looked, and it looked horrific.

Snape was dying. A sad smile lifting one side of his mouth as though in apology, Harry watched his lover's eyes as the grip on his face started to slacken and despite his resolve not to, Harry used the grip on Snape's neck to rattle him as best he could.

"No," Harry whimpered, trying to control his shaking to better hold what was left of Snape's blood inside his leaking neck. "No, no. You can't. You have to stay."

"Harry," Hermione whispered, curling her hand around his shoulder firmly, as if to pull him. "Come away."

"No! What is wrong with you? He isn't – he's going to… No." Harry snarled, jerking violently away from Hermione's grasp.

Harry firmed up his grip on Snape's neck, feeling the thready pulse weaken alarmingly further and watching the obsidian eyes Harry still clung to losing what was left of their life. Another whimper escaped Harry without him even knowing it was coming.

Something was clambering around on the wooden floors near them, probably a herd of rodents, and Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from Hermione but Harry couldn't be bothered to look until something sharp dug into the hand Harry was still using to hold pressure on Severus' neck. He yelped, his bloody hand coming up to swat at whatever it was until a soft trill made him pause.

Leaning over the nightmarish wound and letting shimmering tears float down onto the torn chaos of broken skin and pulsing vasculature was Fawkes. Snape's eyes had closed while Harry had been looking away and Harry scrambled to place his hand on the other side of Snape's neck and almost broke down when he felt a light pulse tickling the tips of his fingers. Harry's eyes were flitting around Severus' face, waiting for some sign of life while Fawkes continued to hold vigil over the slowly healing gashes. Harry felt rather like he might faint with relief.

Just as Harry was beginning to feel a bit steadier, a high, cold voice spoke so close to them that Harry jumped to his feet, thinking that Voldemort had reentered the room.

Voldemort's voice reverberated from the walls and floor, and Harry realized that he was talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

He smiled sadly at his friends and then took a moment to gaze at the prone figure occupying the blood-stained floor in front of him and wished, just for a moment, that they had more time. For that brief minute, Harry imagined what could have been had things not worked out the way that they had. Imagined Snape's arms around in the freezing forest, pressed against the tree and having never felt warmer. It wasn't to happen again, he wasn't to even see Snape's eyes without impending death reflecting in them one last time even though the man was just feet from him. He was still unconscious and Harry will never get to tell him all the things he had been saving up inside himself until they saw each other again. Harry would have to go without ever speaking a word of it. Without ever finishing what they had promised to finish.

Straightening his spine, Harry explained briefly to a completely befuddled Ron and Hermione as they all started picking their way back towards the tunnel they had come. He didn't bother to calm the shaking in his hands as he made his way to the Headmaster's office to borrow a Pensive.

* * *

A/N: Hello everyone! I am so thrilled to give this sequel to you all after so long. I am so excited to hear your thoughts about this story, even though it's already finished (but I can certainly take some input from all of you and make some changes). Please just take a minute to drop me a review and let me know what you think. I love you all so much and pray that you all haven't given up on me. :-)


	2. How To Be Brave

_**Of What Sweet Rest**_

**_Chapter Two: _**

_**By Kitty Hazard**_

Honestly, things had gone a lot better than Harry had thought it would. The image of his family, of Sirius and Remus, walking him through the forest to his death was still fresh in his mind and making his heart clench in his chest. Relieved to not have seen Snape with all the people he loved as he marched out to meet Voldemort, he believed until that very last moment as he faced him in the forest that he was leaving this world having seen Snape one last time and made sure that the odds of survival were in Snape's favor (the most that could be said under the circumstances) but now that all the confusion and threats of impending death have ceased, something odd had happened to Harry. He was nervous. He's relatively sure that Snape didn't die in the time since he walked out of the Shrieking Shack, and Harry remembers pretty clearly how quickly Fawkes' tears did the job for his Basilisk envenomation so a few hours _must_ have done the trick for Snape's throat. That leaves nothing to do but to either sleep for several days and leave Severus in the Shrieking Shack, unaware of the miraculous outcome of the Battle (namely, Harry still being alive – or is it alive again?) and believing that he's still a wanted man or manning up and having a conversation with the man he'd been fantasizing about since they got off together over a month ago.

Harry may possibly be thinking about the memories Snape gave him, thinking about his mother in a way he'd really prefer not to, hoping that Snape is happy to be alive and wants Harry like he did that night in the forest and it wasn't just a pity thing. Or at least not just pity. He wants Snape to want more than just stolen moments together and the fact that he feels like he shouldn't feel this way after such a brief encounter with the severe man, no matter the circumstances surrounding them at that time, makes Harry slightly uneasy. Things were so tense and awful between them for so long that Harry really wonders if one meeting, clothed or unclothed, could really change things so much between them to really warrant their 'conversation' to be far from over.

What if their connection was only feasible during extreme conditions? What if wartime was the only time they could work together? What if Snape didn't want him anymore? What if Harry was making this way worse in his head by torturing himself about details like that?

Harry felt like a complete moron, kneeling in a dirt tunnel, less than 100 meters from Snape and shaking like a leaf, unable to move forward any more. He supposed that it's normal, considering their 'encounter' was his first sexual experience ever and now he really wanted to continue it (he's pretty sure, anyway) and he needed to talk to a surly, snarky, sometimes outright cruel man who he thinks might want him back but could actually _not_ considering that he truly believed that Harry was going to have to sacrifice himself and _stay_ sacrificed in order to save the world. Harry's life did not even resemble other people's lives.

Taking one last shuddering breath, Harry forced himself to knee-walk the rest of the way towards the Shack, suddenly aware that his clothes were singed, he's covered in dirt and blood and other unspeakable things and aware in that moment that this conversation might have been more comfortable if he'd taken a shower before leaving the castle. Bollocks.

As he neared the tunnel's exit, he could hear the sound of agitated pacing coming from the room directly outside the tunnel. It's a good sign but Harry was worried that Snape shouldn't be exerting himself this much, so soon. Determining himself against hyperventilation or fleeing and just going with the sleeping for several days plan, Harry made sure his shuffles out of the tunnel are as loud as possible so to not startle the anxious man.

Just as he's about to straighten up and make himself known (if he wasn't already noticed by the master spy) the pacing stopped abruptly and silence descended. With nothing left to do, Harry stood and turned towards the shadowed room, and dour man, in front of him.

"Hi," Harry said dumbly, internally berating himself for the millionth time.

"Did you use the Pensive?" Snape rasped, his voice a ruined growl, steel scraping against stone. Harry winced at the sound of it.

He couldn't see Snape's eyes, nor his face for that matter, and was totally blind to any emotions he could be feeling at seeing Harry again. Nervously fiddling with his fingers, Harry simply replied, "Yes."

"How long until… How long?" Snape forced out, uncharacteristically censoring himself. Harry felt like he was missing something important, sure his face was betraying as such, and then suddenly Snape took three large strides out of the shadows and towards Harry. His face was thunderous and supremely sad at the same time. A snarl escaped him, chest almost close enough to touch Harry's but he only grated, "I heard the Dark Lord's announcement earlier, heard him give you one hour. I couldn't have been unconscious for more than forty minutes. How much longer until the deadline runs out, Potter?"

"It's passed already," Harry muttered, staring up at Severus in the gloom and trying to piece together an explanation that might make sense to the other man. Snape opened his mouth to most likely begin yelling, face contorting with several emotions at once but Harry raised his hand to stop him and continued uninterrupted. "I understood your message perfectly. I went to meet Voldemort in the forest and let him kill me. I guess it didn't stick."

"Oh," The taller man replied, his mouth opening and closing several times after the last sound escaped him before he blinked hard and leant heavily against a barrel with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry tried to get his thoughts together enough to say something meaningful, or even something to reassure Snape that Voldemort was dead for good, but he seemed unable to get himself to focus on anything other than _Snape's alive. Touch him. It's all over now. Snape's alive. Touch him. _Harry manfully resisted and tried to gather himself better than he had done thus far. He felt justified in his distraction since he did just kill the most powerful dark wizard since Grindelwald. He's bloody tired. Oh, right, Snape might like to know that bit of information. God, he was having trouble focusing. How long had it been since he slept?

"I killed him, Severus," Harry declared, trying to sound less like he's still a first year in detention despite the fact that his head is hanging like he did something wrong. Harry was pretty disappointed with himself, truth be told.

Snape's head snapped up, seemingly struck dumb for several long moments before some alien sound erupted from his newly repaired throat and he abruptly turned away from Harry with a swirl of his ruined robe. He was silent for longer than Harry knew what to do with, and just as Harry's about to go lay a hand on Snape's shoulder in camaraderie, Snape suddenly snapped around and started for Harry at breakneck speed.

Unsure what was happening, Harry was extremely surprised to be swept up into a bone-crushing hug before he knew what hit him. Underneath the coppery bite of blood, Snape still smelled of cloves, Valerian root and old parchment mixed with something that could only be described as 'Snape'. Harry choked back a sob and locked his arms tight about Severus' neck as he was twirled around with his feet swinging out behind him. Harry never wanted to move again.

With an embarrassed cough, Snape put Harry's feet back on solid ground and went to pull away but Harry clawed his nails into the other man's blood-tacky shoulders and held on until Snape stopped trying to move. Before Snape could say anything rude or ruin the moment, Harry made himself mumble, "I misse – er… I was really worried about you," Harry finally muttered, still determined to keep the taller man pressed to him as long as possible. "I thought you were going to die and there was nothing I could do."

So quietly Harry almost missed it, Snape grit out, "You did die."

"Seems like it didn't stick this time either," Harry said lightly, trying to keep Snape from dropping into one of his moods. It was too happy of a day to be anything but exhausted and joyful despite all the mourning everyone will have to reckon with tomorrow.

Snape barked a laugh, the first real laugh Harry had ever heard from the man, and Harry wrapped his arms even tighter around him in response as he let out a little laugh of his own. There was a deep inhale against the top of his head and Harry braced himself for something bad. Nothing happened except that Snape seemed to be tightening his hold on Harry as he quietly asked, "He's really dead? The Dar – … Voldemort?"

"Really, really dead. I'll tell you the whole story another time. Right now, I'd rather just…well, this is actually perfect. Let's keep doing this," Harry replied softly, burying his nose into the previously shredded side of Snape's neck. The other man only nodded slowly and held on just as tightly as Harry was.

* * *

A/N: I hope this can tide everyone over until I get back from work tomorrow. I just couldn't leave everyone without posting a little more before signing off for the day. Please let me know what you think! I have been working on this story for so long that I honestly can't tell if things are making sense anymore. I would really appreciate your feedback. Please hit the review button and just drop me a quick line. I love you guys! I did all this for you, so you only have yourselves to blame if everyone hates the idea of a sequel once it's posted. lol I hope I haven't let anyone down.

Oceans of Love,

Kitty Hazard


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